Sometimes I dream
by Imihel
Summary: In the seventh year, Voldemort has almost won the war. Harry Potter has been locked in a cell for the past few months, kept alive when all he wants is to die. Angsty, slash implied.
1. Prologue

A/N : This is my first fanfic in English so I hope you'll like it. It is supposed to be a one-shot.

Disclaimer : I don't own Harry Potter, J.K.Rowling does. It's her story, I'm merely borowing the characters and names. And of course I'm not using it to make any monnay.

Warnings : PG-13 at least, I think it is enough but if you don't agree just tell me, I don't bite. Anst, character death and a bit of yaoiness (don't like, don't read !)

I guess I told everything I was supposed to, so here comes the story ! 

****** 

Sometimes I dream. I'm back on the outside world, sitting by the lake. You are here, simply sitting with me, a comforting presence. Nothing ever happened. We are together, and you talk about our futur. The house we're gonna buy, the children we'll adopt. Our life.

The day is beautiful, spring sun and no wind. I nearlly allow myself to be happy. But that's the mistake that make everything fall apart. The water suddendly turns blood red, the sky dark and an icy wind is blowing. I look at you, and I freeze. Blood tears are falling from your burned eyes. Your skin is torn and rotten, yet whiter than ever. Your robes are covering the rest of your body, but it doesn't prevent me from smelling it. Death.

I wake up and scream. I scream because I know that it wasn't a dream, but a memory. I have seen you like that. I have seen everything he did to you. And now you're gone. Dead. 

How I hate this word !

My parents and Sirius : dead, because they wanted to protect me. 

Cedric : dead, because he was in the way. 

Ron, Hermione : dead, because they were my friends. 

And you ... dead, because you loved me.

He didn't kill you when he learned you were a spy, he only did it when he discovered how much it would hurt me. He wanted to break me. He did.

I don't care about the war anymore. Everyone is dead anyway, now only Dumbledore is left fighting. I have stopped fighting, I just want to die. But he won't let me. 

I'm kept in this cell, in the dark (except when he wants to play), fed only once every three days (enough to keep me alive, barely) and mostly left alone with my thoughts.

Happy thougts they are, dreams of you that always end in blood. But my scar is hurting again. He's coming back. 

Maybe this time I'll be allowed to die.

******

If you want me to write a sequel, just tell me and I'll think about it.


	2. Escape

A/N : Thanks to Xia and TiniTinuviel for the reviews. Since you've been asking for it, I've been about the story and here goes the sequel. I hope you'll enjoy it  :)

Disclaimer : I still don't own harry Potter and co, and I'm glad Rowling does since I love her stories.

******

1. Escape

Sometimes I dream. Not tonight though. Tonight I turn on the cold floor, restless. Everytime I close my eyes, I see you. Your grey eyes are sad, almost reproachful and I can see your lifeless lips moving. I can't hear you, but I still know what you're saying. You're urging me to escape. Maybe I should. If I stay here, this will never end. I've already been his prisoner for months, and it may be years before he finally kills me.

Yes, escape sounds good. Then I can die when I'm free, or I'll die trying to get away from here. It's not like I have anything else to lose. 

I close my eyes again, but you're gone. I have no time to wonder why, the sleep I couldn't find earlier suddenly claims me.

******

It seems to me that I just fell asleep when I'm roughly shaken awake. My scar is not hurting, it's not Voldemort, but rather some Deatheaters who want to have fun. Slowly, reluctantly, I open my eyes to be greeted by the face of your father. The two of you are so alike it hurts me to simply see him, but you never were as cruel as he is. He looks at me with hate and resentment, he still holds me responsible for your death. I won't even try to tell him that his precious Dark Lord is the one he should blame. Like he'd listen to me.

Uh... Your father was saying something. And now he's angry I wasn't listening. I don't really care about it, but I listen nonetheless. They're moving me. I don't bother asking why and they don't explain. I get up, my tired legs barely able to carry me. I nearly swear. How I am supposed to escape when I can hardly move ?

Well, I don't have time to think about it. They drag me away from my cell, then through cold stone corridors. Slowly, students start to appear as we're leaving the dungeons. Wait. Students ? I was kept in a school all this time and I never noticed ? No, wrong question. What the hell is Voldemort doing in a school ?

They look at me, curious. Did they know I was here ? Probably, considering the laughs I hear. I don't recognise the faces. This is not Hogwarth. Of course, it's still Dumbledore's school. I don't tink Beauxbâtons would ressemble this, even if it were taken over by the Deatheaters. Must be Durmstrang, then. In that case, knowing where I was wouldn't have made any difference, I guess. No one there would have helped me.

Half carried, half dragged, I'm finally outside. The light is blinding. I stumble, still held by the arms. My bare feet are suddenly cold and wet. Snow ? No wonder I can't see a thing. Everything around me is white. As white as your skin, I briefly think with a stab of pain to my heart. I keep my eyes closed, knowing that escaping now would be useless. Then I feel the familiar tug at my navel. A portkey.

The landing is as difficult as usual, and of course it's not helped by my current state of utter weakness and near blindness. Strange. People are screaming around me. I'm thrown to the ground where I stay for a while. Finally gaining my sight back, I take a look around.

The Deatheaters are under attack. No need to know anything else. I slowly crawl away from them, unnoticed in the chaos. I don't know where I am, except that there's a thicket not far from me. I curl up under the bushes, hoping the others will leave and forget me.

The Deatheaters finally Disappear, but the others are still here. I see an old robe stopping in front of my bushes, then the wizard kneel down and look at me. A face I almost forgot.

"R-remus ?" 

******

A/N : since I'm writing this without any real plot, I have no idea when I'll write the next chapter. Don't expect it to soon (plus my holidays will start next week end and I want to use the time to work on my novel)


	3. Vision and Dumbledore

Disclaimer : I still do not own Harry Potter and the other characters.

A/N : Here we are, the second chapter. I'm sorry it took so long, I had some evil exams the last weeks that prevented me from writing much. (and I have tried to work on my novel as much as possible. I think I'll be able to finish it before the end of term )

2. Vision and Dumbledore

Sometimes I dream. Tonight I won't, if the Dreamless Sleep Potion I eye suspiciously is potent enough. Remus gently tells me to drink, that I need to sleep and that everything will get better. I refrain my urge to laugh bitterly or screamlike a madman and calmly answer that he can stop treating me like a child and that the only way for me to feel better would be to die. By the time I finally drink, he looks like crying. The Hospital Wing slowly disappear as I wish I could see you.

... Darkness. Then a room with little light and too many shadows. I know this place. I've been there before, in my dreams, at the beginning of my captivity and when he killed you. Voldemort's lair. Which means I'm in the snake bastard's head once again. Great. That's just bloody great. I just escaped from his dungeon and I'm back in his head. Speak of a nighmare.

I have no control about the situation and I don't like that. Well, let's just enjoy the ride. I'm currently speaking. No, Voldemort is. It doesn't really matter, right now it's the same.

There's a Deatheater on the floor. He doesn't look too well. I understand him. Nobody wants to be prey to the Dark Lord's fury. I listen... hum. It seems he's angry because of my escape.

The other one tries to explain but his Master is not listening. He doesn't care that the portkey didn't take us to the usual place. Nor does he care about the Order ambush.

All he sees is the fact that this was a simple mission and that his servant has failed. Punishment follows quickly. The Cruciatus, cast many times.

The Deatheater screams, and I guess I must be screaming as well in my bed. I usually am. Suddenly it stops. No killing tonight. The servant is dismissed and Voldemort starts speaking again. Parseltongue. To me. He knows I'm here. Uh oh ...

I wake up, screaming and clutching my bleeding scar.

"Harry !" screams Remus. Of course he hasn't left me while I slept. I slowly calm down, taking large breaths, looking at my bloody hands. Red on pale skin. Not as white as yours were when you died.

"Harry ?" The tone is gentle, concerned. I look up into the eyes of Dumbledore. He looks older than the last time I saw him. Well of course, now he is losing the war.

His war, not mine. I'm so tired of living. And I am less likely to die here than I was in my cell.

The Headmaster inquires about my dream, but I remain silent. I don't want to be here, trapped by those who wants me to keep up with the fight. I have to find a way to escape a second time. Then I'll kill myself, and I'll be with you again. Nothing else matters.

Dumbledore has stopped asking me questions about Voldemort and is now discussing with somebody I do not recognise. The new mediwizard, I guess, since this is the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey is dead. She was captured with me, another one I had to watch being tortured to death.

The unknown wizard gives me a potion to help with my healing. Seems like I have some lasting damages that will take time to diseappear. I drink it, feeling myself becoming numb. I fall back into sleep. Dreamless.

When I awake again, Dumbledore is still here, hope and sadness mixing in his gaze. It is disturbing to see him looking at me with such an expression. He is supposed to be the one I look up to, not the other way around. Damn it, he is said to be the only wizard Volemort is afraid of, why can't he go and kill him himself ? I know I'm not half as powerful as he is, and I certainly know less magic. All because of this stupid prophecy, I get to kill that snake.

The Prophecy. I should have told Voldemort about it, he doesn't know he must kill me. Well, if I can't find a way to die, I'll find a way to make him know.

Dumbledore is oblivious to my thought. He is telling me how glad he is to have me back, alive and safe. I simply stare. I'm not sure he'll understand if I try to explain my death wish. He goes on with that fact, telling me that it'll pass and everything will be alright. Who does he think I am ? Some eleven year old child, afraid and gullible ? I have been tortured for weeks, yes, but I have not lost my sanity yet. I think. Anyway I'm not reduced to a childlike mind, that I am pretty sure of. I glare and he stops lying. Only to come back again at another angle, telling me that even if you're dead, life goes on and someday I'll find someone else. I highly doubt that.

Droping the subject, he wish me to get well soon and say that I'll resume training as soon as possible. Then he leaves, wihtout even asking me my oppinion.

I sigh. This is just another prison, except that people are nice, too concerned for my liking and that I am not chained. But I know the door is locked.

A/N : I hope you liked it. I already have an idea about what will be in the next one, so hopefully it will be out faster.

Thanks for the reviews Tini and Paranoia. I think the title Sometimes I dream must somehow be derived of Tini's I know I'm not sleeping, which is a really good fic that I should review.


	4. Hogwarth

A/N: 1:30 am and I finally managed to finish this chapter ! Now I can go to sleep at least.

Disclaimer : If I owned Harry Potter, I wouldn't be writing fanfics, I would be working on the sixth book!

* * *

3. Hogwarth

I have stopped dreaming. Every night I collapse in my bed in Gryffindor tower. I wait for you, but you don't come. You no longer come. I spend my nights alone in this empty dormitory. Yes, empty. Did I mention that I'm one of the two seven year Gryffindor left? Me and Lavender Brown, with all this emptiness just for us. The others? They died, either fighting or being tortured to death. All of them killed because of Voldemort. I should be angry, I think. I should be trying to kill him and avenge them. That's something I wanted to do before, but then I saw you die. I died with you. Now I'm just this empty shell with a few memories of how life used to be. Empty...

Mornings are always the same since I went back to the tower. Colin greets me in the common room, delighted to see that I have not disappeared during the night. Then breakfast in the great hall. It is strangely quiet. The chatting of the students does not fill the space as it used to. Too much space, too few students. Nearly all the Slytherins left for Durmstrang, now they are barely a dozen. Ravenclaws are half their former number, the rest being dead or in Beauxbatons. Which leaves us with Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors. No big change for the former. I didn't have that many friends in this house and those who fought managed to survive. My fellow Gryffindor did not have that chance. There's not much left of us:

Seven year : Lavender Brown and me.

Six year: Colin Creevey and two others

Fives year: ... no five year. They left or they died.

Fourth year and below suffered less, I didn't know them well and they weren't targeted specifically.

Less people, less noise, quieter breakfasts...

Classes follows as usual. I went back to my studies after spending two weeks in the hospital wing. Somehow Remus made me promise to get out of bed, I still don't know how. Maybe because he talked to the Headmaster and had him agree that I am not ready to fight or even train yet. Dumbledore then gave me back my wand that he had managed to keep.

Classes are fine, I suppose. I sit alone, but there isn't a lot of students left in my year. I try to study for my NEWTs, but it's difficult when I can't see the point of doing so.

Hogwarth has changed. Less students, less people, new professors...

McGonagall has died, apparently caught off guard while I was away. Percy Weasley has taken over her position as Transfiguration teacher. It's strange to see him where my old Head of House once stood. He hates me, another one who blames me for the death of his family. He should know better, but Percy is rather blind to certain things. He only joined Dumbledore again when the Ministry was finally crushed, after all. And now he doesn't understand that as members of the Order of the Phoenix, Voldemort was to try and kill them, whether they were my friends or not. And being the Gryffindor they were, they fought to their death. You didn't even have that chance.

Remus is still the DADA teacher, as he was in our sixth year. You were still alive then, and I can remember the two of you arguing over the best way to protect oneself from a dark curse. I was still alive at that time too.

Flitwick hasn't really changed. Cheerful as always, there was a genuine happiness in his eyes when I entered his classroom the first morning after my return.

The new potion teacher is weird. He's a Chinese potion master and sometimes I can't understand what he says. He's nicer than Snape, that's disturbing. I'm used to having the sarcastic Slytherin taunt me and take House points.

And now he is locked in Voldemort's dungeon, being either tortured or forced to brew potions. The Dark Lord does not forgive traitors, nor is he willing to waste such a talent as Snape's. I don't intend to try and help him, I couldn't even help myself anyway.

The only time they let me be is when I'm on my broom. I feel so free... simply flying, letting everything else behind on the ground.

I remember when we flew together, your laughter in the wind entwining with mine. Sometimes, I can still hear you.

I've been flying for hours when I spot Remus on the ground, signaling me to come down. I land next to him and he smiles sadly.

"Can we talk, Harry?"

TBC ...

* * *

A/N: I've seen PoA yesterday and it was awesome! I loved it! Now I just have to find somewhere when I can see it in English.

Reviews:

Tom: could you please stop insulting me when you review? I won't be writing faster if you do, quite the contrary...

Paranoia: Yes, I also write original stuff (science-fiction), but it's in French and I have no idea when it will be available in English (I should finish the book first).

Tini: Snape didn't do anything to the portkey since there isn't much he can do. I killed Pomfrey... well, basically nearly everyone except dumbledore is supposed to be dead, so I thought it made sense to have her die too. And since they are at war, a medi-wizard in Hogwarth is not that surprising. About the school being a prison, it's just that Harry can't really leave because of Voldemort, and the others don't want to see him die, simply because they care. (poor Harry, I'm really horrible with him, am I not ? :D )


	5. Talking with Harry

A/N: It's me again :) Well, I don't have much to say now and beside, I'm sure you all want to read the story :þ

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, no surprise here.

* * *

4. Talking with Harry

Sometimes I dream. I dream of my days back at hogwarth when we were still together. There was already war at that time, yet we were so carefree and our little world was so peaceful... I remember the four of us, best friends, closer than most brothers. We had everything and we lost it so fast. I still find it hard to believe.

I should have known, I should have trusted Sirius. Why did I ever believe in Peter being finally a true Gryffindor? James and Lily died because of his betrayal and Sirius was lost because I did not listen to my instincts. Even in my grief with the wolf howling for revenge I know I should have still trusted him.

But now it's too late. I'm the only Marauder left, the Peter I knew died when he became a Deatheater. I miss him sometimes. And some other times I wish he was locked with me when the moon is high and the wolf free.

I'm losing precious time wishing for what will never be. It's stupid, I know I can't go back and change the past. Wishes won't end this bloody war. They won't give me back my friends. They won't help this child – this young man – who face me.He also lost everything, and sooner than I did.

"Can we talk, Harry?"

Yet as he nods, I don't know what to say. He looks so thin and his eyes are so full of pain it makes me want to weep. Who am I to deny him the release of death? Still I don't want him to die. I don't want to lose that last link to my past. I know it's selfish and it makes him suffer, but there must be some way for him to heal. Or do I really believe that?

"How are you?"

Stupid question, why did I ask that?

"I live."

He shrugs. We both know we can't let him die. If that happens, Voldemort wins. This is something that must not come to pass.

"You were flying."

Great one here, Remus. A fine way of talking.

"I was" he agrees. "He loved to fly."

He. Draco. Is there anyone, anything else on his mind? But at least that's who I wanted to talk about.

"So do you. Or were you flying only to remember him?"

Here, I'm getting a little better at this talk thing.

Silence. He's thinking, his green eyes looking at the sky.

"I don't know" he answer truthfully. "I... I still like to fly, but it's not the same. Not without him. I miss him so much..."

He stands there, refusing to let me comfort him. A broken child.

"Why?"

I pause, knowing that what I'm about to say will surely hurt him even more.

"I was there last year, Harry. I saw the two of you together... I know he hurt you" I finish in a whisper.

"But he cared!" he replies angrily. "I know he was a bastard, had been since our first encounter, but still..."

He sinks to the floor. I kneel in front of him, one hand on his shoulder as he goes on.

"He never lied to me, never betrayed me. He did not really love me, but he cared."

"He was using you!"

I try hard not to scream. Why did he let that Slytherin become so important to him?

"I know he did. Everybody does, one way or another. I'm Dumbledore's weapon, your friends' reminder, Dudley's punching ball, the wizarding world's savior, Voldemort's victim... Should I name more? He was simply more straightforward about it. He always told me the full truth, something Dumbledore doesn't seem to manage even now. Even when we were enemies he did not lie. Taunt me, mock me, but he always said the truth. That's all I asked for..."

He stops talking, head down. I know he's crying.

"Harry..."

He looks at me, right into my eyes, not caring about the tears that run freely down his cheeks. I see hell inside the green.

"Do you know what it's like? It is the end of all hope. To lose him, lose faith... to end all the innocence... To be someone like me... All the feelings are gone. Was it such a deadly sin – to love as I loved him? For a while I felt blessed..."

He shakes his head, his voice becoming quieter.

"But soon I'll be freed from the pain... My tale is of the most bitter truth: time repay us but with earth and dust, and a dark, silent grave... the grave I long for..."

he stays silent and so does I, unable to find any answer, any way to help him deal with his grief. Without any other word, he glances at me then mount his broom and leave. I feel like I've been stupefied. Will he ever heal?

Tbc

* * *

A/N: so, a little change of POV. I have some idea of where this story is going, but unfortunately it doesn't include what happens in the next chapter so you'll have to wait. I will probably work on my other stories and on my book. Anyone recognize the lyrics I used in Harry's speech ? (great band)

* * *

Reviews:

Tini: another great review :D I try to be as close to the originals characters as possible, but it's never easy since I'm not the one who created them. I'm sure you understand what I'm talking about.

About PoA, Sirius was really great. Remus surprised me a little, I wasn't picturing him like that, but he's OK. And Wormtail was... Wormtail.

Since being horrible to poor Harry makes good stories, I think I will try to work on my last fanfic idea, either in French or in English, or both.

Tom: you can stop dancing, I don't write faster thanks to you, especially when your chatting prevent me from writing. There will be NO HarryRemus. I doubt Harry will find anyone else soon (if he survives what will come in the next chapters) Maintenant retourne réviser ton bac. Sale gosse.


	6. Deadly Potions

A/N: Finally back, with a complete chapter this time. I finally get a plotline in this, can you believe that ?

Disclaimer: I own my plotline, but the rest is Hers.

* * *

5. Deadly potions

Sometimes I dream. I remember happier times, when I was younger. Times before the death of my mother. Those dreams do not happen often and always leave me wondering in the morning, surprised that I can still remember. I try to forget them, forget the few happy memories that I still retain. It's safer this way; the dementors cannot hurt me too much if I don't feel anything. But no matter how hard I try, I can't forget the pain, the hatred, the despair… the utter loss of hope. The only time I allow myself to feel some happiness is when I'm before a cauldron, ingredients ready to be added, stirred, boiled… I can't help it. Potion brewing is such a marvelous thing, the only thing I've ever been really able to do. There is nearly nothing impossible when you have the right potion. Voldemort proved it when he came back in June 1995.

Voldemort, my so-called _Master_. I despise him. Since I've been uncovered as a spy, he hasn't stopped torturing me. Breaking my body, then healing it just enough to be able to brew. He hasn't even tried to get information. He probably knows it is useless.

The cell door opens and reveals Lucius. He looks tired, old. The death of his only son and heir was a hard blow, yet I know he did absolutely nothing to prevent it. He only blames Potter. The fool!

Weakly, I get up and follow him to the potion lab. The Dark Lord is already here, pacing. He stops long enough to gaze at me, studying, considering possibilities. He looks calm for the first time since Potter escaped. I don't know how the brat managed that. Must be thanks to another spy, one that I never knew. Voldemort has been trying to find him for quite some time, without any result. Another reason for him to be furious. I doubt the sudden change of temper bodes well.

"Traitor, you are to work on a new potion."

He said The word. Instantly, my mind stops its musing to consider the matter at hand. A new potion? I can't help the shiver of excitation that runs along my spin as I think of a new project.

"This", he shows me a heavy leather bound tome, "is a study of the ritual that helped me to have my body back. It was written by Mordred. You will work with Lucius and use it to create a potion that will not bring back the dead but create a replica of a dead person. Something that will look like them, talk like them, act like them, even retain their memory if you can manage it but will still be under my control. I expect it done soon…"

He let the threat hang in the air. Unable to do anything else, I bow my head. He smirks then leaves, leaving me alone with Malfoy.

He immediately urges me to begin my work. I take a set of parchment, a quill and start to read. First is the potion itself, a brew with Dark Arts ingredients, bones of the father, flesh of a servant and blood of the ennemy. Then the study, explaining how the ingredients react with one another to remold the body of the one inside the cauldron and make sure the new body will not depend on anything to stay alive and with the same magical strength.

At this point I stop reading and start looking at the notes I've taken, thinking.

Already I've got quite a grasp of how to make what the Dark Lord desire, but should I write it? Do it? He wants me to recreate the lost and forbidden Art of Necromancy, which was seen as worst than the Unforgivables when still practiced. I know if I refuse, he will either torture me into doing it anyway or find another Potion Master, more agreeable. I can't let that happen, so I'll have to do what he wants, in my own way. I know I can manage to make this potion complicated enough that he will not use it whithout a good reason and at the same time not too difficult to brew so as not to arouse his suspicion. That way I'll also be able to invent a potion able to counter whatever result Necromancy has. Then I'll just have to discover who this new spy is, give him or her the instruction to brew the counter potion and anything useful to know about the Necromancy Draught. All this with Malfoy and Voldemort both breathing down my neck, both knowing I'm trying to spoil the Dark Lord's plans, and of course without giving away the spy's identity. It shouldn't be too difficult, I've been doing that kind of thing since I got away from Hogwarth. I've even managed to stay alive as a know and captured traitor. I'll surely find out how best to foil Voldemort's plans. I can even try to know if his ressurection can somehow be reversed. Or find a way to help Potter destroy him...

"Severus, stop daydreaming and do your work." The calm but tight voice of lucius interrupt my musings. I had almost forgotten he was there. Damn, I can't let myself become oblivious.

Making sure my face gives nothing away, I scowl.

"This is how I work, Lucius." I snarl before going back to my notes.

I'll need the bones of the dead person, flesh or blood or hair of one living relative, or one of its hair if still available. The 'flesh of a servant' was only required to give an independant life and Voldemort wants a puppet. Some blood of the one controlling the replica, to create a link allowing the control. The rest of the potion is easy to work out with Mordred's work. Vaguely, i recall that Mordred was the last Necromancy Master and that he was killde by Merlin who then tried to destroy all of his work and banned necromancy.

By the end of the day (what i guess is a day since I don't have the priviledge of seeing daylight) I tell Lucius the potion theory is done. I do not mention the fact that I also devised a potion made to destroy the link between the replica and its master. The puppet may have magic of its own, but its life force will come from the one controlling it. Thus destroying the link will kill it. Maybe the same potion could sever the connection between Potter and the Dark Lord. Or maybe not.

Lucius has me escorted back to my cell while he goes to see his Lord. Now all is left for me to do is find that damn spy and give him the instruction for the other potion.

Voldemort is in the potion lab the next morning. I have to explain to him how the potion work and what he'll be able to do with his puppet. He inquires about the life force matter. I answer that the replica cannot be used to weaken him. He is pleased.

He informs me that I'll be brewing the Necromancy Draught in a week, the time needed to gather all of the ingredients. The potion itself will take ten hours to brew and the result will be best if done a night of full moon, then the replica will be closest to what it was when alive. How convenient that the next moon is in a week.

"My Lord, may I know who I will be 'bringing back'?" I ask prudently.

His smile makes me shiver.

"Can't you guess, Severus?"

Lucius makes a small strangled noise. I look at him, he is suddendly deathly pale. And then I understand.

"Draco..."

Tbc

* * *

A/N: here, the end of the chapter. So Evil Overlord Voldy is back with another nefarious plan to wreck havoc on the poor witharding world. But you wont hear of it for some time since next few chapters deals with Harry's memories of his sixth year. Lot of harryxdraco coming !

Review responses :

Tom: no comment.

Tini: Well, as I said the hpdm is coming next chapter. The lyrics were from Nightwish, a fantastic band from finland. I love their songs, even if they're a bit dark sometimes.

Can't wait for Half Blood Prince!


	7. Memories 1

A/N: There it is, the first chapter about harry's and draco's relashionship. I wanted to put it last week end, but obviously I didn't. Here it is at last.

Disclaimer: Everybody know who the characters and settings belong to. I d'ont have a K. As my middle name, so it's not me.

Warnings: character death.

6. Memories 1

Sometimes I dreamed, a long time ago. I remember the beginning of my sixth year, when I was mourning Sirius. I often dreamed of our few times together, the laughter in his eyes when he was speaking of my parents and their school years, yet always dimmed by the pain that never really left him... Then the dream changed and he was falling, and in that second that lasted an eternity anything I had – my hopes for a normal life with a family that wouldn't despise me, a place I could call home outside of Hogwarth – everything was crushed when he disappeard behind the Veil.

I remember waking up, cold, gasping for breath through my constricted throat. I was trying to deny the pain I felt. I remember getting up and leaving Gryffindor tower with my Invisibility Cloak to protect me. I went to the Astronomy Tower, the highest tower of the castle to better gaze at the most brillant star of the sky – Sirius.

I was so lost in my thoughts and my tears, I didn't notice you sneaking up on me.

"What's the matter, Potter, lost your friends?" I jumped. "Don't tell me they're to afraid of the dark they can't even leave their dorms" you taunted. "Or is that famous Gryffindor Bravery and Friendship just another myth?"

"Shut up, Malfoy" I answered automatically. I couldn't manage to be angry with you, not there and then with me crying on my lost Godfather in the middle of the sky.

"What do you want anyway? Why are you up here?"

"That's none of your business, Potter!" you said, and now I know it was a lie. You were following me that night.

"Fine, then." Tiredly, I returned to my Sirius star gazing, ignoring you. Malfoys hate to be ignored. I soon felt your eyes burning a hole in my back.

"All right, I'll tell you what I want. I want the mudbloods to learn their place and stop getting jobs that should go to purebloods. I want that disgusting bastard halfblood excuse of a Slytherin Heir to rot in the hell he should never have left. And to have that I'll need you."

I could only stare at you, too surprised by what you said to react. Your face was blank, I had no way of knowing if this was a joke or if you were actually serious.

"What happened, Potter, lost your voice?" Your mock concern allowed me time enough to gather my thoughts.

"You want to fight voldemort?"

"That's not what I said, Potter. _You_ will be doing the fighting. I will merely make sure you're the one coming back alive."

Another smirk. I felt stunned.

"But I thought you wanted to be a Deatheater? With your father and all..." I stuttered, rather stupidly.

"Don't be dumb, Potter, of course I'll be a Deatheater. They'd kill me if I chosed otherwise. And here I thought you had a brain. You were using the Mudblood's all this time. I'm disappointed."

You were to be a Deatheater yet wanted me to kill Voldemort... Finally I understood.

Looking up in your eyes: "You're going to be a s..." Your hand gripping my mouth prevented me from finishing my sentence.

"Never say it" you hissed. "Not to your friends, not to me, not even to yourself. Never say it and they won't overhear you" I felt my eyes widening. Your hand left my mouth and I nodded slowly.

Leter that night I couldn't help but think back on your words. How you were still the same arrogant Slytherin bastard and yet on our side. Well, more like your side, but still we had the same enemy.

The next month I took the habit of meeting you at least once a week. You didn't change yet something was different. What you said stopped bothering me so much. I suppose that since I wasn't expecting anything from you, you couldn't really hurt me by deceiving my expectations.

Ron and Hermione weren't happy of course, but after the first weeks they gave up and let you alone. And then they died.

It happened a week after Halloween, in Hogsmead. The wedding of Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour.

Dumbledore wanted them to celebrate it at the school, but they said it would be alright. People needed a chance to forget the war, Mrs Weasley said. Beside, there were plenty of Aurors and order members coming, there was nothing to fear and Snape hadn't heard anything. Voldemort knew better.

_Flash Back_

"Come on Harry, hurry up! We're gonna be late!" Ron says, urging me to dress faster. Hermione and Ginny are waiting for us in the Common Room, astounding in their dresses. I can tell Ron is drooling at the sight of his near-girlfriend and I must admit that his sister is pretty. The girls laught and drag us to the Entrance Hall where we must meet with professors Lupin and McGonagall. Dumbledore ang Hagrid are already in Hogsmead.

The carriages take us to the village, we have to greet a huge number of people then finally the wedding starts. My first magical wedding.

Everyone is focusing on Bill and Fleur who are about to kiss when suddendly the door exploses and curses are flowing everywhere. My scar is blinding me, making me kneel on the floor. Somehow I know that my best friends are protecting me, everyone else is fighting, screaming. Dumbledore duels Voldemort again but this time there are Deatheaters.

I hear that mad laughter and it makes me forget my pain. Instead all I can feel is rage. Bellatrix Lestrange is standing in front of me, wand pointing at the shield Hermione has erected. Her husband is beside her, insane grin plastered on his face. Together, they scream "_Crucio_!". The shield shatters. Before they can send another curse, Bellatrix is disarmed and her husband stunned. She screams and launches herself at Hermione. I have barely time to notice a flash of light on a blade. She stabs my best friend directly in the heart. Hermione gasps. She looks surprised. Ron howls. Lupin grabs the Deatheater and sends her flying into a wall. He turns to Hermione who is on her knees, still trying to understand why she has a dagger embedded in her heart. Ron is still screaming in her ears, trying to stop her from dying by sheer willpower.

I'm stunned. I can't move nor think. My wand lies useless in my pocket, forgotten. Then I hear a familiar drawl.

"_Avada Kedavra_"

Ron is glowing green, then fall forward. He's suddendly horribly silent. I look at my two best friends and I don't understand why they're so still, why Ron has that angry and desperate look on his face while Hermione seems merely surprised and hurting.

Dumbledore shouts something. Everything is so silent suddendly. Voldemort has left, the Deatheaters with him.

Slowly, I touch their faces. Remus is speaking but I don't listen. There are tears gliding down my cheeks. I can feel my heart breaking again.

Abruptely Remus puts me on my feets. I feel numb. I can't hear anything except for the blood rushing in my ears. Everything is dark. Where has the light gone?

_End flashback_

I spent the following week in the hospital wing, refusing to talk to anyone. Then you came to visit me. You did not pity me, you were not sorry. You were your usual self. And that was enough for me. I don't remember What we talked about but I remember crying, head buried in your shoulder. You were what I needed. You still are.

Tbc

A/N: Well, hope you liked it. Next chapter should be coming in two or three weeks I think.

Reviews responses:

I got five reviews for the last chapter! I'm so happy ! (does a little happy danse)

Tini: thanks for thinking this is realistic. It's difficult to write Snape, he is such a complicated character. The most interesting in my opinion.

Concerning the other spy, I still don't know who it is.

I finished writing my novel, now I have to type it. I can't wait to have it done and the book where it belongs: in a book store :D

Sarah-928: hope you still love it. Harry really is depressed and depressing. I should read lighter stories.

Tom: J'ai abandonné l'espoir d'écrire une intrigue original depuis un bout de temps. Et bon si Snape est dégoûté des potions, il ne sert plus à rien. Je préfère comme je l'ai fait (comme par hasard), continuant de mettre des bâtons dans les roues à Voldy autant que possible.

Pour le roman, j'ai fini le manuscrit et je tape tout ça à l'ordi.

PaddycakePadfoot: thanks :D

Paranoia: it's great to see you back :) Now I just have to find what I'll write after the memories. (I know how this end, but I don't have a precise idea of how to get there. sweetdrop)


End file.
